After my first marriage failed in 1995 I left New Zealand to live and work in Europe. I left my son Taylor behind. He was three. After a year spent 12,000 miles away I never felt homesick for a moment. But I missed my boy every day. I drew and painted this little story on the EuroStar train between London and Paris with a pocket watercolor set and a spiral bound hot-pressed sketch book from a little stationer in Oxford Street. I sent it to Taylor with his birthday swag that year. I came home when his mum passed away suddenly later that same year. I found the book in a box of childish things. I showed it to a friend who thought it sweet. She suggested I share it. So I have. Taylor is 17 now and a fine young man. I’m sure one of these days soon he will get itchy feet and head out into the world. And I’ll miss him again.
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